


remember me

by vividxpages



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Crying, Healing, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, M/M, Memory Loss, Mental Health Issues, Night Terrors, Oral Sex, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Serious Injuries, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Smut, Teacher!Connor, and therapy, post traumatic amnesia sucks, rocky recovery, socialworker!Evan, the boys deserve a hug, they live in a cottage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-23 14:00:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30056553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vividxpages/pseuds/vividxpages
Summary: After a car accident, Connor lost his memory of the most important person in his life.Evan and him were supposed to get married, but since Evan is practically a stranger again, both of them have to figure out how to move on together.-Will Connor give Evan a chance and fall in love with him all over again?Or is there too much hurt and loss to rebuild their relationship again?
Relationships: Evan Hansen/Connor Murphy
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	1. THREE DAYS AFTER

Connor blinks against light, too bright for his eyes, and thinks of glass.

Sharp, transparent glass, cutting through light and space. Bursting with a loud splintering crash, a force diving right through his body, pressing him down, blocking his lungs.

Glass that cuts through skin and touches his temples, until he can´t feel it anymore, limbs getting tired and numb, all consuming. Trying to convince him to sleep.

He blinks and wonders if he´s staring into direct sunlight, but that wouldn’t make sense, because he senses he´s shivering, bare arms full with goosebumps.

It´s the first thing he sees, his pale arms. Thin as usual, elegant fingers sprawled out on a rough blanket. It´s his skin that terrifies him.

His arms are full of cuts, healing and pale red, thin and precise like a razor, but that couldn’t be. Connor hasn’t done that since he was seventeen.

Is he dreaming?

“Connor.” A distant voice says and if feels like he´s underwater, the sounds is thick and doesn’t get right through him. He blinks, still staring in shock at his arms. “Connor, sweetie.”

His head swims as he looks up from his lap and it´s only now that he realizes he´s laying down, in a white, uncomfortable bed. Everything is pretty much white in here.

The walls and the sheets, they also sharpen the contrast between the cuts and the bright color. There is a flower, on a small table in front of the bed, in a vase. It´s a blueish Myosotis, a Forget-me-not. It´s a pretty flower and Connor gets distracted and admires it for a moment, a quiet smile finding its way on his face.

Fuck, he´s out of it, he can barely concentrate for one second and his thoughts are out of order. He only ever feels like this when he´s… Connor forgets what he wanted to think.

As the world comes back into focus around him, Connor begins to hear the steady beeping of a machine, it´s coming from his right side and he looks there and sees. His own heartbeat.

Which is kind of strange.

There are also a lot of numbers and abbreviations Connor doesn’t know and his eyes slowly follow the tube attached to the big machine leading right to his right wrist.

Connor moves to rip it out, a primal instinct, but his hand is stopped by another, a very soft one with small wrinkles and a gold ring, and Connor looks up to see who´s trying to stop him, even though the simple movement already exhausted him so much, he sinks into the pillow behind him again.

“Mom.” He croaks out, his voice raspy and dry.

Cynthia smiles at him with tears in her eyes and places his hand down again, gently patting it until Connor relaxes a bit.

His mom is here, this is going to be fine. But he wonders why she´s crying, because if she doesn’t stop soon, he will cry too, and that´s never good.

“Hey, baby.” His mom says and leans forward in her chair beside the bed to kiss his head, tucking a loose strand from his bun behind his ear. His hair feels gross, when was the last time he washed it? He can´t remember. “I´m so glad you´re awake.”

“Why are you crying?” The words cost him effort, and they come out a bit slurred, but Cynthia understands anyways, like she always does as his mom, and shakes her head like she doesn’t want him to worry.

“I`m just happy you´re awake, dear.” She says and Connor wonders why she´s sitting by his bed when he just woke up from a nap or something. “The others are just outside for a couple of minutes, I already texted them.”

Why is his family here? Connor is pretty sure he moved out some years ago. Is he back in Penfield? Why is the room so bright? Or is his eyesight just bad? Why is his whole body hurting like an elephant just stepped on him?

“What happened?”

“Don´t worry, everything is going to be fine. A doctor will be here soon.”

Connor´s braincells work too slow to understand the last part of the sentence, all he knows is that he believes his mom. Mom´s words are law and if she says it´s going to be fine, the world better adjust to it.

And so they wait.

Connor almost nods off multiple times, but now he can´t ignore the constant beeping beside him and he looks every couple of seconds back to his mom, to assure himself he´s not alone or dreaming. Every time she meets his glance with a smile, but it quickly disappears when he looks away again.

Some things don´t add up.

And Connor is just not good at doing math right now.

A door opens and he hears a gasp, he sees a woman with long brown hair entering, her earrings rattle quietly and she sits down beside him immediately.

Sunshine. Freckles. A guitar. Campfires. Washed out jeans. Warm laughter.

“Hey, big brother.” His sister Zoe smiles watery and carefully intertwines their fingers and only Zoe can manage to do something like this without hurting him. He weakly smiles back. “You gave us quiet a scare, Con.”

Connor furrows his brows. “Don´t want to scare you.”

Zoe and his mother exchange a look.

Connor only catches a few words from what they´re saying.

“…still dazed…”

“The pain medication…”

“…should be better soon.”

He doesn’t really listen, instead he watches the other men who entered behind Zoe, but it´s all a blur and he doesn’t have much time to examine them, because shortly after, another man with a white coat comes into the room, accompanied by two nurses who silently check the machine beside him.

The guy looks important though and Connor understands that he has to listen now.

“Hello Mr. Murphy, welcome back.” The man says and looks down to a clipboard in his hands. “I´m Doctor John Ellhall, your supervisor here at Mercy hospital. Can you tell me how you´re feeling right now?”

God, now he´s overwhelmed.

„Uhm…“ Connor´s brain is slow to put the words into an order that makes sense. He can hear the gears turning, a steady headache forming behind his forehead. He swallows and his throat stays dry. “I´m good, it´s just…hurts and…feeling a bit dizzy, I guess?”

One of the nurse’s nods and scribbles something on her board. 

Someone presses a plastic cup into his hand and he feels his fingers wrapping around it mechanically. He looks down and sees scratches and bruises, blooded scabs are healing and itching. Connor only starts slowly to feel his aching body again.

It hurts.

But he raises an arm and drinks, the first drops of lukewarm water running down his chin.

 _Fuck, this is embarrassing_. He quickly wipes it away, despite his arm hurting like hell. Everything _hurts_.

“This is a normal effect from the pain medication we gave you, it´s totally normal.” Doctor Ellhall assures and nods as he flicks through the file in his hands. “You´re probably feeling pain in your arms and abdomen, but luckily you didn’t break anything, so you should be able to move freely soon.”

Cynthia rubs a thumb for Connor´s hand, listening patiently to the man, nodding along with his statements, but Connor isn’t sure if he can follow this whole thing.

He´s in a hospital, this far he knows now, but why?

“What happened to me?”

He is scared of the answer, but it´s driving him insane.

Connor has always been a person that needs to know simply everything. He can´t stop until he figures it out, understands the whole picture with very aspect there is to know.

He needs to know. And he wishes he doesn’t have to.

“Mr. Murphy, three days ago you drove out of town with your car and collided with the guardrail, which gave away and caused your car to crash against a tree at the side of the road.” The doctor explains calmy. “You were transported to the hospital, but you were unconscious in the car for half an hour until other drivers found you. The ambulance had to cut you free from the seatbelt, which is why we lost some time to prevent further damage in the first hours after the accident.”

 _What_?

Connor feels his heartbeat getting faster, he´s shaking his head like he could fight the words off like this.

“We had to do surgery, because the glass from the front window cut into your abdomen and you were bleeding severely from a head wound and the impact. You spent the last three days here and recovered. We expected you to wake up tomorrow, but obviously you´re quiet a fighter, Mr. Murphy.”

Connor isn’t feeling like a fighter right now.

Actually, he´s pretty sure tears will overwhelm him at any second, because this is-

Fuck.

Is he in shock? It feels like it.

Connor can hear someone sniffling and his instinct is to say something comforting, but his brain is just blank. He´s staring ahead, silently repeating the same words all over again.

_Accident. Tree. Impact. Surgery._

“It´s okay, baby, you´re going to be okay.” His mom assures him and squeezes his hand, Zoe wipes away some tears at his other side.

He opens his mouth and closes it again.

“So, Mr. Murphy. I know that this part is always uncomfortable, but it´s our duty as doctors to make sure your brain didn’t take any lasting damage caused by the accident.” He announces and looks at Connor openly. “Would you be able to tell us something about yourself?”

His mom´s head turns out sharply, Cynthia is almost staring the doctor down, furious and uncomprehending. “Doctor, I don’t think that´s necessary right now, he _just_ woke up.”

Connor wants to agree, but instead takes a sip from his water cup again. This is…a lot, fuck.

“It´s the standard procedure, Mrs. Murphy.” The doctor explains calmy and examines Connor, who shrinks into his hospital bed again. “I understand your concern, but discovering differences in the early stage of recovering is immensely important for Mr. Murphy´s future progress.”

Connor doesn’t understand a single word that is spoken.

All he wants to do is curling up and pressing his pounding head into the pillow, he´s sure he didn’t feel like this in a long time. It´s almost like a triple hangover, but worse and with more blood. At least someone cleaned up his knuckles while he was asleep. And the doctor seems to be very interested in his persona, so Connor coughs and gets some words ready to present

“M-my name is Connor Murphy.” Connor closes his eyes to think straighter. “I´m twenty-six years old and my birthday is on April twentieth.”

“Very well.” The doctor praises dryly and Connor can hear scribbling on paper again. Something inside of Connor´s body eases up a little bit, because even though everything only makes sense very slowly, the thought that he´s still the same calms his racing nerves.

The next question is so unexpected that Connor flinches.

“Who are the people beside your bed?”

“This is _ridiculous_ -“ His mother chimes in again in angry protest.

“Cynthia, please.” Connor spots a tall figure in the corner of the room, a man with silver hair in a suit, big eyebags and an everlasting frown on his face. He looks at her with pleading eyes, quietly shaking his head.

His mom stops and takes a deep breath, before she gently grabs his hand again and caresses his limb fingers. It´s so soothing, Connor wants to cry. “Take your time, Connor.”

“This is my younger sister Zoe and my mom, Cynthia.” Connor says and feels very dumb and…watched. He turns his head to look at Larry, still frowning and observing him, like he did when Connor did some shit back in high school. “And my dad, Larry.”

The doctor hums again and behind him someone moves, stepping out of the half shadow of the day, unsure steps echoing slightly on the tiles.

It´s the other man, who entered together with his dad, Connor just thought he was an assistant or something, quietly watching in the back without making any noise.

He steps in front of his bed, pausing in safe distance and looking at him with wide eyes.

Connor looks back.

Should he say Hi?

It´s kind of uncomfortable, because his brown-green eyes are puffy and red and Connor can´t understand why.

The man also doesn’t wear white, so he doesn’t belong to the hospital staff, right?

“Uhm…” Connor doesn’t know what to say. Why is the guy staring at him like this, like he´s waiting for Connor to say something important, world-changing and big?

“Con?” His sister asks unsurely. “Don’t you remember Evan?”

 _Evan_?

His ears are ringing and there is a hint of something familiar inside of him, like he´s sucking in air and holding it, but the feeling vanishes as quickly as it came.

Now, it´s just empty.

Complete emptiness.

The seconds pass by as they continue to stare at each other.

The man in front of his hospital bed has blond, almost golden hair and it looks kind of messy, but short. Like he buried his head into a ton of pillows before he came here. Same goes for his face.

His cheeks are red and his eyes, sad and tired, are swollen, which only is a result from hard crying or an allergy. Are there any allergies in a clean hospital? Connor isn’t sure.

Connor also notices that he´s…good looking.

It´s a weird thought to have, but he looks really like a guy to gives out bear hugs and listens to you talking about everything for hours. His features are friendly and a bit of sun-kissed skin peaks out at his collarbone, despite the big hoodie he´s wearing. Connor thinks he has the same hoodie. It´s too big for him, the edge ends at his thigh, shortly over the knees. A very beautiful thigh, actually.

God, he´s having weird thoughts about this stranger.

A _stranger_.

A stranger he should…know?

“Mr. Murphy?”

Oh, right. Someone asked him a question.

And Connor is still dizzy and weak and he feels himself drawing back into himself as the man called Evan continues to give him this desperate stare, so Connor answers with honesty.

“I´m sorry, I…” His mother squeezes in hand, more in confusion than in comfort. “I don´t know who that is.”

And it´s silent.

He´s pretty sure even his heart machine stopped beeping.

The man gasps, like Connor just plunged a knife into his chest, and the nurses look sympathetically and his parents are too still, no one´s saying a word and right now, and he´s really worried for the guy, because he seems like he´s very close to fall to the ground. His knuckles turn white from holding the bedframe so hard.

Evan swallows hard and shakes his head, slow and first, then frantic. “No, that`s- No, I´m sorry, I… this can´t be…”

He flees from the room, door slamming loudly behind him.

His dad rushes out shortly after, pale and maybe with the intention to follow him.

What the fuck?

“What does that mean?” Cynthia demands to know and Connor flinches from the harsh tone his mother set, but not against him. Against the doctor. “Why doesn’t he remember him?”

Suddenly, all Connor wants to do is to apologize.

He doesn’t want to upset anyone.

“Mom, I don’t…” Connor breathes in sharply. “I´m really sorry, but I _swear_ I- I have no idea who he is.”

There is a sadness he can´t explain, expanding in his chest and cutting off precious air. This shouldn’t worry him, he doesn’t know that guy, but this seems to be important, this was meant to be meaningful, and he simply can´t deliver the expected reaction.

He can´t express anything but confusion.

And it scares the shit out of him.

„Connor, sweetie.“ His mom presses her lips together, he can hear Zoe sniffling. Why are they crying like this?

_What the fuck is going on?_

“Evan and you…he´s your fiancé. You were engaged.”

* * *

Evan can´t breathe.

He all but breaks into the hallway, leaving the others behind and scaring some concerned nurses in the process.

“Sir, are you alright?” Someone asks in the distance, but Evan can only see the blurred white hospital tiles under him, they´re swaying back and forth, like the branches in front of their house on a stormy night three days ago, cracking against each other. Like knuckles, like a car and a guardrail colliding.

Two firm but cautious hands settle on his shoulder, squeezing once, reassuringly.

How is Larry Murphy able to remain calm? What´s his secret?

“Evan, you need to breathe.” The man who´s supposed to be his father-in-law guides him towards an empty waiting chair and he feels the back of his thighs hitting the cold plastic firmly.

He´s trying. He´s really trying his best, in and out, in and out again, but it´s like his lungs are full of glass. Glass like a rain-stained window, splintering into a million pieces, cutting through skin.

All he achieves are short puffs of air, mixed with shallow sobs and hot tears.

Larry´s hand stays on his shoulder, the whole time. He always had a strange relationship with the oldest Murphy, but Larry seems to know exactly that Evan can´t be alone right now. And he´s grateful, even though he isn’t saying it out loud, that Larry takes a moment to take care of him instead of sitting in his son´s room.

This is.

Like everyone, Evan has seen some nightmares in his life.

None of them come close to this.

After three days, Evan still wishes to wake up.

It was the middle of the night, when Connor left. Stormed down their front lawn and got into the car.

Evan watched him through the window, he remembers still standing there even after Connor drove off, wheels squeaking on the wet concrete.

Fifty-two minutes and thirteen seconds later, Evan got a call, from an unknown number.

_Hello, is this Mr. Evan Hansen? I`m calling from the Mercy hospital in Penfield, you are listed as an emergency contact for Mr. Connor Lawrence Murphy. He´s been in a car accident and has been moved to our Emergency Room. Are you able to come here? We´re currently transferring him to the operating room._

Evan´s heart stopped and only started beating again when he got the text from Cynthia, fifteen minutes ago.

_He´s awake. Groggy, but awake._

And then, this.

Evan made sure to stay in the background, so Connor wouldn’t be overwhelmed, observing him in silence and holding his breath when Connor rattled down the information the doctor asked for.

The hollow look in Connor´s eyes, the appearing frown on his forehead as he stared at Evan with confusion. The cold shock that overwhelmed him as he realized Connor doesn’t know who he is. He didn’t have to wait for him to say it, but hearing those words… It broke him apart. He´s still breaking, even minutes or hours later, with Larry still remaining at his side.

Fuck.

“This isn’t real, right?” He hears himself asking hoarsely, Larry´s heads turning in surprise.

“It can´t be real.” Evan shakes his head.

He doesn’t get an answer, not that he needed one in the first place.

Connor doesn’t remember who Evan is.

Maybe he couldn’t care less about the stranger in the hallway who´s having a mental breakdown.

But Evan cares, because for him, just three days ago, Connor was the love of his life.

He still is. Just one week ago they talked about cakes and decoration for the wedding and he watched Connor writing in their garden. Evan remembers thinking that maybe he´s writing his vows down, right now, and getting that fluttery sensation in his heart that only Connor can give him.

For Evan, nothing changed.

He still loves Connor above everything.

Evan´s eyes land on the simple silver ring on his left hand, shining mockingly back at him.

Evan has never felt so hopeless in this entire life, so. He stays.

He stays at the hospital, keeps being in the background until the doctors have checked Connor through.

Zoe tells him, the concussion and the wound at his stomach are still pretty bad and he´s going to be sore for some time, but it´s nothing time can´t heal. Evan thinks of Connor´s delicate body, how he was always easy to get affected by the flue or easily scratched himself, but he´s so fucking glad Connor didn’t break anything. Or bled out on the spot, beside the road.

He decides against sleeping in the first two days, because he´s afraid of nightmares.

Dreams of losing Connor, irrevocably.

Evan rather downs four coffees in the morning to keep himself upright, even though Cynthia insisted of driving him home for a day or two, since Connor isn’t doing anything but resting and sleeping in his room.

Evan asks Cynthia if Connor wants him to leave, too.

He needs to make sure, because the last thing he wants is to upset Connor in the state he´s in now.

Cynthia just hugs him fiercely and kisses his cheek, despite the tears. It reminds Evan of his own mom and he calls her the other day, informing her about anything.

_Oh, baby. I´m so sorry…_

He´s sorry too.

Deep down, Evan knows he _needs_ to stay at the hospital, around other people, because if he´s left alone, he can´t promise the guilt won´t swallow him whole.

He feels helpless. And he isn’t useful in this situation, he doesn’t even know why the Murphy´s allow him to be around his son anymore, but he´s too scared to ask anyway.

“Evan, you´re family.” Zoe says to him one night, both of them meeting in the empty area by the coffee machine. “Nothing´s ever going to change that.”

But what if Connor doesn’t want him now?

His feet lead him inside of the room anyways, careful footsteps to not wake the man sleeping in the white hospital bed.

The blinds are still open, the spring sun slowly setting, enveloping the room with warm light.

Apparently, Connor was too exhausted to curl into a little ball like he usually does before falling asleep. Now, his long limbs are all sprawled out, his feet almost hitting the end of the bed, naked wrists full on display, with all the cuts from the glass shattering inside of the car.

Evan wants to make it all go away, because even though Connor is sleeping, a frown is visible on his forehead, like he´s deeply thinking in his dreamless sleep. At least he doesn’t have to stay on the heart machine any longer, since the doctors said he´s stable enough without one.

His dark locks create a strong contrast to the white pillow underneath his head, Evan can spot a small braid to keep the fringe from falling in his face. Connor is still too pale, but now his cheeks are rosy.

Evan wants to reach out and take his hand.

Three days ago, while he speeded to the hospital, he thought he might never get the chance to hold Connor again.

Now, it´s the same, but for a whole different reason.

He can feel himself tearing up, quietly sniffling into the silence of the room, before Connor suddenly shifts around, a small groan in the back of his throat.

Connor slowly blinks and looks at Evan, still and waiting for something to happen.

“I´m sorry.” These are the first words Evan says to Connor, after he woke up. It seems fitting. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

Connor rustles a bit with the sheets, sinking in further and leaning back against the pillow, until he´s in a sitting position.

“`s alright.” He slurs his words a bit, the clear sign of the heavy pain medication he´s still on. Evan´s gaze flickers to the injection needle on Connor´s forearm, under a small stripe of tape. Someone cleaned his knuckles properly, too.

Evan only realizes now how weird this must be for Connor and regrets coming in here alone, sitting at his bed like a total creep. The silver around his finger burns into his skin, reminding him of the only visible thing that still connects him to Connor.

Connor´s hand, on the contrary, is naked.

The ring isn’t there anymore, the twin to Evan´s gone.

Evan swallows thickly, trying to keep himself together while he´s still here. He can allow himself to cry later, but not now, not in front of Connor, who´s still recovering and doesn’t even understand why Evan is so emotional about this. Shit, he´s falling apart.

However, Connor seems to read his mind, and in total silence his eyes drift away too, to the small table next to his bed.

There is a fresh glass of cold water, a small box with different meds for him to take during the day, and on the box-

Connor´s engagement ring.

Someone or Connor himself took it off, but it´s still there, right beside him.

Does he think of the ring as a prison, right now? Does Connor think he´s bound to keep it?

There are so many unspoken words between them.

“I don’t expect anything from you, okay?” Evan clarifies softly, internally hating that Connor looks at him so bewildered and strange. His face, still a bit pale but not so tired anymore, is full of insecurity and awkwardness.

It´s been ages since Connor looked at him like this, last time back when they didn’t know each other and had their own problems to deal with. Connor´s love has always been something worth earning for Evan. And just like that, with a snap or a second ticking by, it´s all erased.

Evan blinks harshly to keep the tears at bay. “A-and I´ll leave if you want me to. I can understand if you don´t want me here with your family. Just say the word and I´m gone, but…”

He exhales shakingly. This is the hardest thing, pretending he isn’t just crumbling side right now, like his body isn’t close to giving up before his heart breaks straight into two.

Connor looks at him with wide eyes, waiting for him to continue.

“I just want to make sure you´re okay.” Evan finishes helplessly. _As okay as you can be at the moment._ He doesn’t say it out loud, but he _knows_ Connor, even though Connor doesn’t know Evan, not anymore. He isn’t in the mood to think about this right now, because that would only lead to him spiraling, but he knows Connor and he´s probably just as scared as Evan is.

Connor likes being alright.

It´s as simple as that, but there´s more to it.

The world hasn’t been kind to Connor, many times. First the endless torment in high school, leading to a lot trouble and stress in college, even though their relationship has made a lot of stuff more bearable, for both of them.

And then, after they graduated and they landed in jobs they both loved, finding inner peace in their first little home, Connor bloomed like a flower. And he loved it, because that´s what he deserved since day one. Having a safe place, someone to share it with him. Being loved and loving.

Connor always liked being okay.

So, Evan knows exactly that he hates the situation he´s in now.

He almost forgot he´s still waiting for Connor´s answer.

Evan watches as Connor´s tongue pokes out and he thoughtfully wets his lips, a gesture he doesn’t even realize he´s doing it.

“I…I don´t want you to go.” He says quietly, a faint blush creeping up his neck. “If this is…I mean, it´s obviously true, all of you wouldn’t gang up on me to lie about it, but if we…were a couple…”

_Were. Past tense. Over. Not there anymore._

Evan´s sure he´s slowly dying inside and this is the funeral.

“You need to be alright too.” Connor carefully formulates, frowning at him. He´s pitying Evan. “This isn’t just hard for me, right? You lost something too.”

The most precious thing in Evan´s life, actually.

Evan agrees, but he doesn’t say it. Doesn’t want to say it out loud. Saying it out loud makes the thing real.

It´s not like he isn’t dying to tell Connor about the last three days, how scared he was and that a storm is raging inside of him. But Connor doesn’t care, at least not like that.

And this isn’t about Evan.

Connor is the one who got injured and woke up without a part of his memory, not the other way around. He needs to take care of him, if that´s something Connor wants from him.

He´s going to be whatever Connor needs, and if the answer is being absent, giving Connor space, that´s what Evan is going to do, even if it kills him.

Evan manages a small smile, probably more of a grimace. “I´m just really glad you´re awake.”

And healthy. Not dying at the side of a deserted road, bleeding out and fading away.

“Yeah, but-“

“You shouldn’t have to feel like you owe me something.” Evan interrupts quickly.

“It´s not that!” Connor protests weakly and sighs, a little overwhelmed.

“You can think about it, I´ll just-“ Evan already moves to get up.

“Don´t.” Connor says, a word effectively cutting through the tension in the room, so powerful that Evan stops dead in his movements of fleeing. “Can you just…uhm. Stay? A little longer?”

Suddenly, Connor just looks really tired and worn-out, like half a weak of rest and quietness is thrown out of the window.

Suddenly, all Evan wants to do is to climb into the hospital bed beside him, holding Connor in his arms and never letting go.

But he can´t do that.

This isn’t about what Evan wants.

So, Evan sits down again, in the uncomfortable chair beside Connor´s bed, and not even five minutes later he can hear Connor´s breath slowing, his hands aren´t fidgeting in his lap anymore and it´s quiet again.

Connor falls asleep.

And Evan sits there.

He sits there for hours.


	2. SIX DAYS AFTER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor and Evan have a conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thank you to everyone who read and left kudos so far, I`m so excited to start this new story with you <3  
> I´m trying to always have two finished chapters ready in advance, so you don´t have to wait for too long for a new update. 
> 
> As always, I would love to hear your opinions and getting to talk with all of you :))

Connor hates hospitals with a passion.

He always had such strong feelings about clinics, he once spent a very long night in an emergency room because of really bad food poisoning. It doesn’t come from nowhere, him cringing whenever he sees syringes or people saying complicated words when they talk about him.

He´s in a weird space between drifting away and constantly reminding himself to stay in the moment. There are a lot of people surrounding him who he could disappoint, after all. If he doesn’t cooperate or something like that.

He slept a lot in the first two days, but once he didn’t feel like throwing up anymore because of the slight concussion, the work began.

A team is constantly working with him, smart people with a dozen doctor titles combined, keeping him preoccupied with hours of answering their questions.

There are examinations of his visible wounds as well and when he has to test out his limbs to move fully, it´s horrible. There still is this burning sensation on his lower belly, where his stomach got cut up the most, a vicious combination of glass and a strong seatbelt pressing into the wound. Doctor Ellhall promises him a scar, but overall, he´s fine.

As fine as someone with _post traumatic amnesia_ can be.

It´s such an ugly word, and he doesn’t want to get labeled with it, but now he hears it on a daily basis. Together with the team of hospital staff, they´re able to figure out how much time Connor lost in the accident.

 _How_ do you measure memories?

In numbers, quantities?

The answer is: Seven or eight years. More or less.

And it´s a true miracle, Connor feels like he´s _the_ prime example for memory loss at this place, because while some doctors at least act sorry for him, others shake their hand with a strange smile when they listen to Connor talk, because he´s just _such an interesting case_.

There isn´t a decent explanation for it.

No one can tell why Connor remembers the baby-blue hair clips with little butterflies on it that Zoe wore on Connor´s seventh birthday or what stories his mother used to read him before bedtime. Connor can talk hours about what´s high school been like, how utterly alone and strange he used to be, but after that it´s just…empty.

His sister is there for him and fills in some important details. He got his Bachelor degree in Arts and English and teaches at an elementary school in their hometown. Connor was always good with kids, they liked him because he was chill and didn’t ask any stupid questions like all the adults. Maybe it´s because Connor always stayed a child as well, deep in his heart.

Connor´s kind of impressed, being a teacher and all. It sounds great and Zoe always makes sure to keep her tone gentle, like she doesn’t want to overwhelm or disturb him. Connor´s very grateful for that, even though he is a lot stronger than when he first woke up. Tired, but getting there.

But even if Zoe tries, her stories of him…they stay stories.

Connor doesn’t feel connected to them, he´s feeling like they all happened in another life. Maybe they did, because now it´s just before and after.

He feels like he´s been robbed.

Connor is angry, deep down. A small fire is steadily burning whenever the doctors ask another question he can´t answer anyway. All he says during the sessions is _Pass_. Next question, please.

He´s so, so tired. He´s just in the middle of a sentence and in the next second he´s falling asleep again, on Zoe´s shoulder, probably drooling on her in the process.

Something has been stolen from him and he isn’t close to getting it back.

It´s nobody’s fault. And it´s everyone’s.

And like this whole thing isn’t confusing enough, there´s Evan.

Evan with the blond hair and unsure eyes, a warm brown and green mixing in them, sitting beside his bed until he fell asleep.

Evan who brought him a book just yesterday, saying it´s one of his recent favorites.

Evan with a ring on his finger, a visible evidence of their connection.

Evan, who stays with him, because somehow Connor doesn’t want him to go, even though he doesn’t really know him.

It´s all very confusing.

Connor has questions, too. More than the amount that´s probably good for him, but they keep popping up in the weirdest moments.

“Why did I drive in the middle of the night?” Connor asks urgently. “What happened?”

Zoe hesitates, mouth opening and closing again. The door opens and just like that the moment is over, a nurse comes in with a wheel chair to bring him to the ultrasonic room.

The thought carrousel doesn’t stop spinning though.

He lies awake in the middle of the night, staring at the ceiling of his room, hands folded together on his belly, against the rough fabric of the pajama from the hospital.

He won´t fall asleep anytime soon.

So, Connor goes for a walk.

Not a single nurse is pacing down the hallway, the lights are dimmed for the night and only in the lower floor’s movement can be heard, from the emergency rooms probably. Here is not a sound, so Connor listens to his own footsteps on the cold tiles. It´s a bit scary.

His parents and Zoe went home for the night, Connor insisted. He honestly expected more protest, but they didn’t argue long, almost like they knew someone would be there to take care of him instead.

After all, Connor is still recovering.

He rounds a corner and is in a waiting area, looking way comfier than he imagined. There is a shelf with used books and magazines and dimmed lamps as well. Two big armchairs stand in front of each other in the middle of the room.

Connor spots a silhouette on one of them.

“Can´t sleep?”

* * *

Evan almost jumps out of his seat and whips his head around.

Connor wears a white pajama that’s a too big for him, rubbing at his eyes. Eventually Evan´s eyes land of his naked feet, toes wriggling around unconsciously.

“You shouldn’t be barefoot; you might get sick.” He blurts out worryingly, dodging the question. But it fulfills its purpose, because Connor looks down at himself and frowns.

“Oh.”

“You didn’t realize?” Evan notices Connor is shivering. It´s pretty cold out here in the hallways, Evan is wearing his jacket and still got chills after a while.

“No.” Connor just says and they stare at each other, unsure how they managed to kill the conversation so quickly.

“You should…maybe you should sit down, warm up.” Evan thinks Connor might appreciate that he doesn’t want to force him back into bed like a toddler.

“Yeah.” Connor says raspy. “That´s probably a good idea.” He taps over to make himself comfy in the seat across Evan, drawing up his legs and curling into a tight little Connor-ball. The gesture is so familiar to Evan, he stares for a second longer than appropriate.

“Why are you up?” He asks Connor, who raises his eyebrows in defense.

“Why are you?”

Oh, he isn’t used to that. He forgot that he can´t just ask him questions like they’ve known each other for forever. They´re not. Friends. Or something else.

“Couldn’t sleep.” Evan answers in honesty.

“You should´ve gone home, too.” Connor points out relentlessly. “Like my parents did. To get some rest or something.”

 _Home isn’t the same without you_.

“And who was going to tell you that you can´t walk around barefoot in here?”

It was meant to be a joke, but maybe they aren’t about that anymore. He sees how Connor´s face becomes guarded, lips drawing into a firm line.

“I can take care of myself.” He shoots back, clearly offended and Evan tries hard not to wince.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I…sorry.” Not even a week has passed and he´s fucking this whole thing up. 

Connor stays silent for a long time, chewing on his lip and staring off to the shelf behind Evan.

Something sparkles at his neck and as Connor moves around a bit more, Evan sees that it´s a necklace, thin and silver. The pendant lies on Connor´s chest and…

It´s his engagement ring.

The twin to Evan´s on his finger.

He didn’t put it away, he kept it _with_ him, right around his slender neck.

Connor catches him staring. “Oh, uhm…” He gulps self-consciously and reaches up one delicate bruised hand to touch it, before tucking it back under his pajama shirt. “Yeah. Zoe said I should keep it as a…lucky charm.”

“Y-you don’t have to…”

“I want to, though.” Connor insists once again. “It´s mine, isn’t it?”

_Is or was?_

Evan only nods and tries to calm his racing thoughts.

“Tell me something about yourself.” Connor suggests shyly out of the sudden, looking rather into his lap where his hands fidget shakingly, than holding Evan´s searching gaze.

He´s searching for something Connor isn’t able to give him. Unexplainable guilt is his constant companion.

“What´s your last name?”

“Hansen.” Evan answers immediately, thanking Connor internally for starting off easy.

“Sounds like something Nordic.”

“My family is Jewish, actually.” Evan manages a tiny smile, the thought about his mom warming his chest. “My dad left when I was a kid and ever since, my mom and I were managing on our own. I was probably horrible to her, as I got older.”

Connor frowns. “Why is that?”

“I had pretty bad anxiety in school, always. I didn’t have many friends and didn’t fit in, and she only tried to help, but I guess I pushed her away a lot. But we´re better now. Seems like I only had to get out of high school to truly start living.”

“What do you do?”

“I work as a social worker in a community center for struggling teenagers. We give out food in the afternoon and help them with homework or other things. Most of the time, we just listen. There are so many stories and the kids are amazing. I always wanted to do something that helps other people.”

Connor watches him carefully as Evan talks, soaking up every word from him, nodding along.

“Since when do we know each other?” Connor asks curiously and supports his chin with one hand, leaning slightly forwards. “Zoe mentioned we were in the same high school.”

“Yeah, that´s true.” Evan doesn’t really like to think about his high school experience, but for Connor he´s willing to elaborate. “We were in the same grade, actually. But we didn’t know each other, we had different kinds of friends at the time.”

“Oh.”

“But we went to the same college and reconnected at a party.” Evan goes on and blushes. He doesn’t think he can ever forget that night, seeing Connor for the first time on the dancefloor, arms up in the air, glitter sparkling on his eyelids, lost in his own kind of symphony. The image is tattooed into his skin forever. “We became friends, but you had a boyfriend at the time.”

“Really?” Connor´s eyes are wide with innocence and Evan wishes he could deny Connor further stories about the fucking asshole. He never thought he ever had to even say his name again, since it also used to be a huge trigger for Connor.

“Aidan wasn’t…kind. To you, I mean.” Evan thinks of any words to stay vague. “He wasn’t gentle and he liked to show you off and make fun of you. Manipulating you.”

“ _Oh._ ”

Evan still remembers the calls he got from Connor in the middle of the night, when he hid in the bathroom and whispered that he was afraid Aidan would hurt him. He remembers staying on the line with him, because Connor begged him to _not_ come over and beat the shit out of Aidan, because it would only lead to more trouble.

Evan remembers seeing a black eye on Connor for the first and last time.

He comes to his senses and clears his throat, trying to soldier on.

“You don’t need to explain.” Connor quickly cuts him off, apparently Evan´s expression gave away enough. “It´s not important right now.”

“O-okay.” Evan sighs deeply, picking up from where he stopped. “You broke up with him after a really bad night and y-you stayed with me for a long time, because you were scared of him wanting revenge. And after that…we became a couple.”

Maybe it´s not a romantic story.

There were no roses or big love confessions with candle lights and sweet kisses.

Once they both realized how they felt for each other, it was like a firework went off. Thousand sensations at once. It has been overwhelming in the best possible way.

“Sounds like I was really lonely before.” Connor says eventually.

“You really weren’t.” Evan interjects before Connor can begin to brood on it. “You were the strongest person I knew and you survived and cut yourself loose from him. I was only there for…moral support?”

A shy grin scurries over Connor´s face. “ _Moral support_?”

He shrugs. “I was also very in love with you at that time, so that made it easier.” Evan´s eyes go wide when he realizes what he just said. Did he fuck this up now? Is he overwhelming Connor with this whole thing? Didn’t say the doctor to take it one step at a time?

“Sorry, I don’t know-“

“Don’t apologize.” Connor interrupts him softly and bites at his lip, a little flustered. “I guess, this helps? Hearing stories from…before. It gives me an idea of what a person I´ve been before …this happened.”

“Oh.” Evan says dumbly. “Okay.”

“I think about this a lot actually, when the doctors aren’t stalking me and leave me alone for once.” Connor frowns, before he moves on. “It´s like I don’t have a clue who I am now. I know I have a teaching degree and I´m good with kids apparently, because I teach Arts and English to them, but…what am I _like_? There are like only these fragments I remember between high school and now, and once I think about it too long, it doesn’t make sense anymore and I get a headache, so I just feel. Bland.”

_Bland._

That´s the least fitting word for someone like Connor.

He´s compassioned, and a good listener, soft and caring, he reads a book until it´s way past midnight, and he´s loving, loving, loving. He´s all Evan ever wanted.

And what a cruel world this must be, that it decided to rip them apart just now, just weeks before the big day.

The wedding.

Evan´s head swims. There is so much…damage.

Connor doesn’t deserve any of this.

“It´ll come back.” Evan promises gently, causing Connor to scoff.

“When?”

“I don’t know.” He retreats behind a safe line again, not giving away that he wants to cry, because he wants to ask the same question Connor too. He wants someone wiser to reveal that everything will be okay. But there is no one else around, so he adds quietly: “Give it some time. It hasn’t even been a week, Connor.”

After that, the conversation dies down and they just stay in their armchairs, both of them too deep in thought to start from the beginning again.

“We were happy, huh?” Connor asks into the silence.

Evan´s chest tightens with emotion.

Evan thinks of sunny days, spent entirely with lazing around. The crashing sounds of waves in the background, seagulls above his head. Connor´s nose buried in a book as lies down on his stomach.

He thinks of flashing lights, red and blue, and loud music as his lover orders them another drink at the counter. Not even downing half out his glass before Connor leads him into the back of the bar, hot lips raking all over his neck and collarbone. Legs turning into mush, boneless, body full with anticipation.

He thinks of waking up on Sundays, head buried into Connor´s neck and breathing in deep, not wanting to let this moment ever pass. White sheets and their discarded pajamas on the floor, both of them touching everywhere. Entirely content and still thickly wrapped up in sleep.

He thinks of so many precious moments spent with Connor, he could go on like this forever.

“Very.” Evan whispers, not trusting his own voice. “We were very happy.”

The quiet and loud moments, the hasty and slow ones, this bubbly kind of love and then the heavy kind, burning hot inside of him…He realizes how every happy memory always has Connor in it.

They’ve seen each other´s highs and lows, but they never had to fight for their love, because they never had to go against the stream. Loving Connor is the easiest thing for Evan to do, and it used to be vice versa.

But all he has right now is Connor, sitting in front of to him in an empty hospital hallway, too much space and unfamiliarity between them.

And even if this is the closest he´ll ever get to have with Connor, he´s willing to fight for it.

 _Connor_ is worth fighting for.


	3. EIGHT DAYS AFTER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor makes a important decision.

His hand shake as he signs the last papers preparing his release from the hospital.

After this morning´s examination, the team of doctors is confident that Connor is now ready to leave. He doesn’t have to eat the bland food they serve here again, and he´s grateful for that. God, he sounds like some rich bratty kid, but he can´t help it.

He almost became friends with one of the older nurses. She used to sneak two puddings instead of one into his room, and maybe he´s going to miss her.

But not anything else.

Definitely not.

The physical therapy exhausts him, after every session he is sweating all over and has to hold onto the walls of the tiny shower attached to his room. He´s too proud to call for help, even after he almost slipped one time, causing Zoe to knock on the door from the outside.

Connor´s been so focused on daydreaming about his release, that he didn’t quiet think through what would come after it.

Because work is out of question.

As his mom and him pack up some things for Larry to take outside, Connor catches sight of the many colorful paintings and greeting cards, all from his students from the elementary school.

All of them are really awesome and Connor is still in awe of the kind gestures from the kids he used to teach. There are at least twenty and all of them are full with glitter, gold stars or sketches of cool dinosaurs, cars and little paper princesses, all to cheer Connor up.

_Get well soon, Mr. Murphy!_ is the catch phrase of each card, all scribbled and obviously written by small kids, accompanied with many hearts and smileys, everything child-like and bubbly. He teared up a little bit when he read them for the first time.

There are others too, from the other teachers, most of them women who also teach in the art department, wishing him a quick recovery and telling him not to worry, they have everything under control.

Connor learns that he cared about these kids, a lot. And they care about him, it seems.

His job isn’t just a job apparently, it´s his passion and joy. He can imagine himself in a classroom, when he was younger, he always wished his teachers would try to do a better job, to be more excited about their own lessons and taking the students with them. Maybe he became the teacher he had always wished for himself.

But he doesn’t want to return there, not yet.

Not if he doesn’t even know himself anymore.

Connor doesn’t want to think about how long it´s going to take to get back to normal again.

So, the next reasonable option is to go home.

It´s easy and Doctor Ellhall says it´ll be the best if Connor spends some time in a familiar environment, because it could support him in the process on getting his memories back. Familiar things spark familiar feelings, hidden inside of him, maybe.

But where´s home?

He knows Evan and him were living together, just outside of Penfield in a peaceful region in the country side, but he can´t remember any of it.

So is home the last home he can _remember_ , his childhood bedroom in Penfield, with his sister and parents sleeping a couple of doors down the hall?

Or is home with Evan, who he just connected with for the first time, hesitating conversations and searching gazes?

When every last bit of Connor´s clothes and mountains of cards is carried downstairs to the parking lot, he´s having one last conversation with Doctor Ellhall.

Beside him are his mother and Zoe and in the back of the room stands Evan, keeping his distance once more and choosing not to get too close to Connor.

“Alright, Mr. Murphy.” The doctor opens his file again. “You´re healing very well, after this morning it´ll probably take some days for the wound on your stomach to not hurt anymore, but there are already some prescriptions for you to take away at the office on this floor, so keep taking them and the only physical reminder of the accident will be a scar on your abdomen.”

Connor breathes out deeply. “Fine by me.”

“We consider the other cuts minor injuries, but we want you to continue the physical therapy for a while, to make sure you´re staying in shape and not developing some cramps or muscle weakness.”

He passes over a neat file, with organized sections and step-by-step plans. Connor takes it and tries not to be overwhelmed by the at least thirty pages of suggestions and exercises.

“Here´s what we can conclude about your amnesia.” Connor prepares for the worst, automatically reaching under the desk to grab onto Zoe´s hand. “It´s always hard in cases like yours to get a plan together. Sometimes the memories come back after a short amount of time, sometimes it takes years. Sometimes they never come back to the patients and they have to continue living without them forever.”

Connor feels the air whooshing out of his lungs. He´d hoped for more optimistic words.

“All we can suggest is that you should surround yourself with people who help you with every step of the way and not throw yourself on a new project for a while. A calm and safe environment should help you to gather yourself and stimulate the part of your brain that´s been damaged. Rest for a while, before you work on remembering the past and most importantly, take your time.”

_Take your time._

The words echo in his head, only tormented by a slight headache today, as all of them get into the elevator. The most crucial question floats between them in the hair, as Connor looks at himself in the big mirror at the wall.

There is still a band aid, almost hidden by his long hair, on the side of his forehead, where his head hit the steering wheel. The pain is dimmed by his medication, but he wishes he could just take it off and leave the memory of the hospital behind him.

There are two cars waiting for them in the parking lot.

One belongs to the Murphy´s.

The other to Evan.

Connor guesses that him and Evan had two cars and the other one is complete trash after the accident. He doesn’t ask what happened to it, if it´s already a pile of metal on some scrapyard.

“So.” Larry clears his throat and looks at Connor, who paused between the two cars and looks a bit lost. He´s wearing dark sunglasses, because it might be not sunny, but his eyes aren’t used to the bright light outside. He probably looks hungover.

“What´s the plan, son?” Larry adds and doesn’t have to clarify, since all of them already know what he´s talking about.

Where will Connor go now? Where does he want to start the long journey of recovery?

“It´s completely your choice, honey.” Cynthia assures him and squeezes his hand.

Evan looks uncomfortably to the ground.

Connor needs to make a choice, now.

“I´ll stay with Evan.” Connor announces and hears Evan taking in a sharp breath.

“At home.” He quietly adds, trying to get familiar with the image of a house that belongs and yet again doesn’t belong to him.

If his family is surprised by his choice, they don’t show it.

There is this unreadable expression on Zoe´s face, a mixture of sadness and sympathy, as she nods and hugs her brother fiercely, before moving on to Evan and doing the same.

Connor closes his eyes as her mother hugs him and places a kiss on his cheek, before drawing back and tucking some of his hair back behind his ear. “Please call us when you get home, okay?”

Connor nods. He can´t truly imagine how much he scared his mom.

“Focus on getting better.” His father, who never was very affectionate with him, hugs him too, a little stiff, but it feels…nice. “You´re a strong one, son.”

He looks at his family, who didn’t leave him once and only can guess what they’ve been through.

“Thank you, guys.” He says gratefully, before waving and getting into Evan´s car. He waits for Evan to store the bags into the back and then watches his family´s car driving off first.

After Evan is done and gets into the driver´s seat, there´s a moment of silence between them, it stretches out until Connor can almost hold on to the tension in the car.

He turns his head slowly and notices that Evan is already looking at him, eyes wide with astonishment. And a little spark of hope.

_You really want me to be there with you?_

He knows the words that float through Evan´s mind, somehow.

“How long are we going to drive?” Connor asks instead, trying to sound casual and not like he´s internally freaking out about everything new that’s going to happen soon. The hospital room has been safer, but also more depressing. Connor doesn’t want to be depressed anymore. He´s just tired now.

Evan swallows and turns in the key of the car around. The engine rumbles quietly to life. “Maybe forty-five minutes?”

After they pass the second crossroad in downtown, Connor is out like a light.

* * *

At some time, he feels the car slowing down and opens his eyes. He´s met with open green fields to both sides of the car, a winding country road in front of them. White fences mark up an avenue, which leads to a big driveway.

Slowly, a house comes into sight.

“This is ours?” Connor asks breathlessly as Evan slowly stops the car, in front of the blue entrance door, a shiny golden _twenty-one_ on it.

“Yes.” Evan confirms and Connor almost hears a tiny smile in his voice, but he´s too fixated on the beautiful cottage in front of him.

Solid white stone build two floors with big windows and a thatched roof assemble a cozy-looking building. It has wooden window frames and the ground in front of it is framed with wild flowers and bushes. Connor spots some raspberries and bees having a rich buffet.

“How were we able to buy such a property?” Connor wonders breathlessly as his eyes rake over the walls, finally landing on the little mailbox, painted yellow, with their names on it.

_Evan Hansen & Connor Murphy_

“A very old lady lived here for many years.” Evan closes the trunk behind him and shoulders Connor´s bag, white gravel crunching under his shoes as they make their way up to the door. “She looked for some trustworthy new tenants and insisted we can´t remodel anything, especially not the garden in the back. I told her about my plans to plant an own little orchard there and just like that, it was ours. She didn’t really want much for it, she only wanted to know it´s in safe hands.”

“It´s beautiful.” Connor says and Evan blushes a bit.

“Most of it was your idea.” Evan fumbles with the keys for a moment before turning it into the keyhole and opening the door. “I can give you a little tour, if you want me to.”

If this isn’t the weirdest first day ever.

Connor´s bags are abandoned in the hallway, he already moves on to the living room, a big open room flooded with light and warmth. The walls are painted with light colors and in the corner is an old oven and a fireplace.

His gaze doesn’t linger for too long on the furniture or the pictures on the wall, Connor spots the huge glass doors first. They offer an amazing view into a big garden, framed by trees, and a little further away, a small creek splashes in the distance.

Connor steps out onto a wooden porch with cream wicker chairs and a glass table between them.

And as he walks over the lawn, the grass not too short and not too high to appear messy, he gets it.

This was his home once.

It´s peaceful.

He looks back to the house, where Evan lingers at the glass door and watches him carefully. Over him is a small balcony with different sizes of pots and plants on them, like a separate little garden house.

He walks down some vegetable patches and sees tomatoes and herbs growing from the ground. An old rusty pergola, a giant watering can, dirty rubber gloves.

It´s lovely.

It feels warm.

“This is really cool!” He calls over his shoulder, suddenly high on the warm sunshine and all the nature around here. He almost forgets about everything that happened before. He gently touches one of the potatoes plants, like he just made a new friend. “You´re a gardener?”

Evan walks up to him, hands shyly buried into the pockets of his jeans. “Yeah. I always liked to cook and wanted to do it with my own…food.”

“Wow.” Connor is impressed. He imagines being out here in the hot days of summer, watching Evan planting before going for a walk in the forest behind their garden, cooling down in the shade and reading a good book.

Connor points to the wicker chairs by the house. “This might become my favorite spot.”

For a very short moment, Evan´s smile falters, but he quickly recovers and offers to show him the rest of the house as well. Connor didn’t really notice, so Evan doesn’t have to tell him that this is the exact spot where Evan proposed to Connor, on a Friday night after they went out for dinner. A beautiful night it has been, followed by a full weekend of staying in bed and hiding under the covers. They would’ve not made it far anyways, love and lust overwhelming them each time they thought they were spent.

Connor has a weird, surreal first day back at home.

He`s decided to explore every corner of the house like he´s a sponge soaking up every detail and information he can get.

For most of the time, Evan lets him discover things on his own, quietly staying in the background and only filling in when Connor really asks him something, for example about the shells that are embed in the staircase that leads up to the second floor, where their bathroom, bedroom and both of their offices are.

Downstairs are just a big living room, a kitchen and a guest room with a toilet.

Evan also mentions a lot that he can move things around if he wants to. Evan wants to make sure Connor feels comfortable here, in their house.

But Connor likes everything just the way it is.

Which shouldn’t surprise him, since this is also his house, but does anyway.

At every corner waits a unique note of Connor.

Everywhere are books, to start off. There is a massive shelf in the living room, but it´s full and doesn’t have any more capacity, so the books are also on the coffee table, or in front of the TV, lingering on the steps of the stairs, which is probably dangerous, and in his little office space. The walls there are decorated with paintings from his students and his own.

It hits him out of nowhere.

He really wants to draw again. His hands are practically itching.

He saves the thought for later.

Evan also shows him their master bedroom with a big queen size bed at the center, with fluffy blankets and pillows draped over the sheets for daytime. Two windows are on each side of the bed, one table full of books, the other with a little potted plant.

It´s obvious which side was his.

“Who´s that?” Connor asks and walks up to one side of the bed, where a worn-out teddy bear sits, with big button eyes and a blue flower over his teddy heart.

Evan blushes instantly, looking like he wants to throw the thing out of the window. “Oh, uhm…it´s. It´s mine, but…I can take it away if you want, since you´re going to sleep here. He´s probably a bit creepy by now, but…”

Connor frowns as Evan searches for words. This must be so annoying for Evan, explaining the obvious all over again and telling him the same things for a second time, right?

“I don’t mind sleeping in the guest room.” He interrupts before Evan can stumble over his words again.

Evan raises his brows _. You´re not a guest._

“Absolutely not, I´m sleeping there.” Evan replies, sounding final and like it isn’t really up for discussion. “Besides, the bed squeaks and you would wake up every second. The doctor said you need rest.”

_So you´re staying here._

Connor lost this fight. Maybe he should´ve not mentioned the stuffed bear.

He was feeling fine all day, but as it gets darker outside, he begins to feel exhausted. Leaving the hospital this morning feels like it all happened weeks ago.

He changes into some of his pajamas early and says good night to Evan before retreating upstairs. Maybe he overestimated himself. He feels weak as he brushes his teeth, slowly tears off the band aid at his temple, and then again when he drapes the several blankets over himself.

Out of the sudden, in the darkness of the bedroom and under thick blankets to keep him warm, Connor feels lonely.

And sad.

It´s not even fully getting through him.

He was betrayed for so many memories, he can´t get a grip on how much he actually lost. All because he lost control over his car, for reasons yet unknown to him.

_This bed_ should feel like home too, a safe space for him to calm down after sleepless nights in the hospital.

Instead, it only feels like a temporary shelter.

He reaches out and his fingertips touch something soft, a round, fluffy ear. Evan´s bear.

Slowly, he presses the stuffie to his chest by instinct, until he feels a bit warmer and his bottom lips begins to wobble. It´s spiraling out of his control, his confused feelings becoming unleashed in the dark.

Connor sniffles and tries to drown in sleep, closing his eyes and snuggling deeper into his pillow.

Soon the fabric is wet with tears.

**Author's Note:**

> a "remember me" playlist
> 
> Unsteady - X Ambassadors  
> I can´t make you love me - Bonnie Raitt  
> Oceans - Seafret  
> Draw your swords - Angus & Julia Stone  
> Don´t forget about me - Cloves


End file.
